


Breathe In And Let The Monster Sleep

by Paclipas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Cas understands, Coda, Emotional Baggage, Episode: s10e05 Fan Fiction, Fluff and Angst, Hinted Confessions, Holding Hands, Important Conversations, M/M, Mark of Cain, Pre-Slash, emotional!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2617427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paclipas/pseuds/Paclipas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to win a war against yourself without someone to help you cease fire. </p><p>Thankfully, Dean has Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe In And Let The Monster Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Oh dear, I haven't written anything in weeks and this is the first thing that snuck up on me as I started typing. It's a bit of 10.05 aftermath (How utterly amazing was that ep, huh?) and I think I like how it turned out. 
> 
> Also, I noticed I kind of have a kink for domestic!Dean doing dishes, idek. I've used that in another story too. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.  
> Enjoy!

In the evening Dean lay on his back, at last happy to have his memory foam mattress again. The majority of their motel rooms hadn't been half bad; _clean_ , _practical_ and even _nice_ being suitable adjectives to describe them. (The hunter liked to delete the ones where _grimy_ and _smelly_ came into the picture from his memory upon departure.) After ganking Calliope they'd decided to head back, well, home. Even if it wasn't the most appropriate term to use at the moment. With only a few salt'n'burns on the route back they had been quick to get to Lebanon. Returning to the bunker after weeks on the road had been odd. It wasn't like the Winchesters had had a home over the past- what- twenty years? So it had been strange enough for them to settle into cautious domesticity as easily as they had upon the discovery of their shelter to begin with. The problem was, as cozy and enticingly inviting as the place had deemed itself in the first months, the Winchester Curse had apparently travelled with the hunters, resulting in almost unbearably painful memories as the two of them had strolled through the hallways under the pretence of checking the building for potential threats now that they were back.

Dean had shaken his head sadly at the door Charlie had so joyously strolled through with Dorothy, glad for the witty redhead to have made it out of their fucked-up world alive and with the promise for icing on the cake in the form of new-found love.

Sam had flinched visibly as they made it past the spot where Gadreel had killed Kevin - where he remembered his very own hand reaching out and the lethal flow of celestial energy ending his friend's life.

Both Winchesters had ignored the splintered door in the control room. That memory wasn't ready to be addressed yet, the wound too fresh to start healing.

In the end they had awkwardly said their goodnights and retired to their respective rooms. Which was where Dean was still gazing holes into the ceiling. There was an emptiness inside him that didn't resemble anything he had ever felt before, not at the loss of his brother, not at his final Goodbye to the Braedens, not even at Cas' supposed demise. (Yes, he was still thinking 'bout that sometimes. Shut up.) It was advanced emptiness he felt. A gaping hole in the very core of his being where the Demon had been but at least it didn't demand to be filled with blood. Unconsciously his left hand travelled to his bedside table, blindly reaching for the pictures he had left there. They gave him some sense of security, his mother's warmth still radiating off her even while she was only smiling at him as a fading image. Dean licked his lips in a conscious effort to hold back the emotions that seemed to bubble up so freely ever since he was patched up again.

The buzzing of his phone stole his attention away from the rectangular snippets of happier times between his fingers.

"Hey, Cas." The greeting was automatic- who else would be calling?

"Dean." Monosyllabic as the day he'd been born- or so the hunter guessed- Castiel's gravelly baritone flowed through the speaker. He may or may not have sighed at the comforting familiarity. "Where are you?" It was a questions of previous times. Back then it had required exact coordinates or at least a motel room plus room number, now it was different, because Cas was different.

"The bunker. Sam 'n I got back a couple of hours ago." Dean, reminded of the exhausting drive, ran a tired hand over his face as if trying to wipe the weariness off his skin. The angel on the other end of the line made a surprised sound, definitely not prepared for that answer.

"Hannah and I are on a farm not far out of Kansas. Would you like me to catch up with you some time in the next few days?"

Something raw flared in the pit of Dean's stomach at Hannah's mention, leaving a bitter trace even as the feeling died down again. The hunter bit his lip. "Yeah. Sure."

"Dean, if you don't want me to-"

"No!" Real smooth, Winchester. That didn't sound panicky at all. He cleared his throat, adjusting his voice volume. "I mean, I- uh, I want you to come here. Please." Pressing his eyes closed in frustration he held his breath for a second, cursing that even this small confession gave away too much of his emotional state.

"I'll be there in the morning," Cas said softly. Something inside Dean that he hadn't realized had been raging was suddenly soothed at the reassurance.

"Okay. Good," he replied. "Great."

There was a relatively long silence only filled with shallow breathing on both ends and for a brief moment Dean thought how nice it would be to fall asleep to the calming sounds of another's regular in- and exhales. He couldn't even remember the last time he had just slept with someone- literally slept, not fucked- and he kind of really missed the proximity of another warm body next to his. Why any of these thoughts came to him while he was talking to Cas of all people was a mystery to him.

(A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Sam whispered something along the lines of "Dee-stiel" in an offered explanation but Dean vehemently denied its presence.)

Something rustled at Castiel's end of the line and there was an exchange of sentences too mumbled for the Winchester to understand before his friend sighed with annoyance. "I'm sorry, Dean. Hannah needs help with a spell, I have to go now."

"Oh. Sure. Tell her I said hi." He fervently hoped Cas didn't hear how much effort it took to say these words.

The angel either really didn't notice the strangled edge in Dean's voice or chose to ignore it. "I will. Goodnight."

"Night, Cas. See ya tomorrow."

The line went dead and Dean's inner turmoil returned.

...

The next morning found both Winchesters noisily munching on their bowls of cereal, which was the only thing they had left in the bunker kitchen that had not long passed its expiration date and together with the gallon of milk they had fetched from a gas-n-sip just outside Lebanon it made a decent enough breakfast.

"I think I might go on a grocery run later," Sam declared with a frown. His gaze went past his brother and straight to the mountain of expired food products.

"You can take the Impala," Dean said around a mouthful of Captain Crunch. They had a garage full of nice vehicles to choose from but somehow the brothers tended to avoid using other cars, always having that stupid feeling of cheating the muscle car that had been their constant companion for as long as either of them could think. "Want me to look for a case while you're gone?" Dean changed the topic.

Sam swallowed, jaw set. "Yeah, uhm, sure. If you want to."

Dean didn't want to, not really, but he was scared shitless of what might happen to them if they stayed cooped up together without a job at their hands for too long. Sure, there was always the possibility to explore the ancient archives of the bunker and sort and categorize any new information they found but sooner or later they would have to talk- have a bowel movement moment- which Dean really wished could be avoided.

They finished eating while hiding behind their smart phones, Dean because he was checking the time roughly every two minutes (come on, how far could that farm possibly be away?) and Sam because he was probably online-couponing or some shit. Dean volunteered to do the washing-up, to his brother's eye-brow-lifting surprise, so Sam ended up swaggering off into the direction of the bunker's shower room.

Dean took his time to push the fabric of his shirt sleeves up, reluctantly revealing the prominent mark still residing on his skin, in a quiet slumber for now. He let the sink slowly fill with hot water, the steam blew in his face, and added a very generous amount of soap considering he had only two bowls and a pair of spoons to clean. While the four items uselessly, unnecessarily, soaked in their bath the hunter grabbed a towel and tugged one end into the side of his jeans so that the other end was dangling freely, waiting to be put to use. In the distance he heard Sam rummaging about, probably getting ready for departure. Grocery shopping had always been a special science to the younger Winchester that required meticulous planning if he had the time.

_("Look for whole-grain products in the pasta aisle.")_

_("No, Dean, not the tomatoes imported from Spain. Think of the environment!")_

_("Tofu's on special offer!")_

Dean chuckled to himself, fishing for the first bowl and covering it in soapy foam before rinsing it. As long as his little brother didn't talk him out of beer or pie he could almost enjoy the show on the rare occasions that they went to the store together. Still lost in thought he grabbed the towel's loose end and began drying the dish when someone spoke up behind him.

"Am I interrupting?"

The voice almost made the hunter jump out of his skin and it took all of him not to drop the item in his hands and instead place it on the counter before turning around. Cas was standing in the doorway with a faint smile sparkling in his eyes, Sam towering behind the angel with an expression that was to equal parts confused and amused.

"You didn't tell me Cas was coming," the younger Winchester said accusingly, arms crossed, and immediately Dean felt his stomach knot with the guilt that was accumulated there anyway.

"Yeah, uh, guess I forgot about that. Sorry." Dean nervously rubbed at the back of his neck with a soap-covered hand before moving his gaze back to Cas. Since he was all juiced-up again he looked quite alright in comparison to what Sam had told him about their friend's condition, just the heavy bags under his eyes and the worried wrinkles on the angel's forehead gave away that this stolen grace, too, wouldn't last forever.

For a long moment Dean and Cas stared at each other, fisting and un-fisting the hands at their respective sides before the hunter simply couldn't take it anymore and shot across the room into the angel's waiting arms. It wasn't something they did, hugging, but some situations just called for it and this was one of them. It wasn't a long, meaningful embrace, just a quick tightening of arms around one another that lasted for only a few breaths but was enough to immediately calm the ever-raging war within Dean's chest.

The hunter pulled back, patting his friend's shoulder in the most bro-like manner he could manage and stepped away until an acceptable amount of steps lay between them. Sam had watched the entire scene play out and now looked like he was contemplating whether to comment on it.

As soon as Dean sent him a warning glare, he made a decision, mouthing "De-sti-el" with a wink.

"I swear, Sam, if you say a single word you'll regret it."

Cas, who only just now realized something had passed between the brothers, turned halfway around to look at the younger Winchester with questioning eyes.

Sam nonchalantly raised his eyebrows. "What? I just know someone who'd be _literally fangirling so hard right now._ " He made a fanning motion with both his hands in a mock-attempt to quell his feigned excitement.

"Sammy," Dean growled, though the angrier he got the more his stupid jerkface of a brother was enjoying himself. Completely unimpressed by the dark glare, Sam continued.

"Do you know what an OTP is, Cas?" Completely and utterly confused the angel looked between the brothers and shook his head. Sam smirked. "It means One True Pairing. Two characters that are shipped as the perfect couple. And, you know, there's always some truth in fiction."

"Alright, that's enough," Dean barked. "You can go and shove your One True Pairing up your One True Ass."

Sam's smirk broadened. "I bet _you'd_ like to have _something_ shoved up your-"

"I said enough!" Dean hollered, hurling the tea towel straight into his brother's ugly face. The guy hadn't just overstepped the line, he had goddamn long-jumped over it and set a new world record.

"Castiel, what are the Winchesters talking about?" It was the first time Dean noticed Hannah standing in the doorway, half-hidden behind Sam, and he was surprised to feel less animosity toward her than he remembered.

"I'm not exactly sure." Sky-blue eyes narrowed as they stared on. "Dean?"

At first Dean didn't reply, steely glare still focused on his younger brother who by now had the conscience to look at least somewhat guilty. Then he let his eyes wander back to meet Cas' who still looked confused as hell. "You know when we told you we killed Calliope?"

"Yes. The other muses are in uproar, especially Melpomene." Castiel said, clearly not understanding how that particular fact related to any of the strange sentences that had been shot back and forth between the hunters.

"Well, there's some pretty weird shit we discovered while on the case that Sam, apparently, has the need to share."

And with that Dean lead the way out of the kitchen because he sure as fuck wasn't going to have that conversation while doing dishes. He needed to do something manly, like, grow a beard and cut some trees but since that weren't serious options he had to settle on the next best thing, which was turning on the TV and watching a sports channel while he reluctantly shared the whole story about how their life came to be a stage musical.

...

"I do not see how the robot was a necessity," Hannah said with a frown from where she was standing near Cas' spot on the sofa. She still radiated off something purely angelic with her stoic expressions, social incompetence and eerily smooth movements. It was like watching pre-fallen Cas all over again.

"Believe me, neither do I." Sam chuckled, staring at the muted football game playing on the TV set.

Cas and Dean were silent. For the most part, Sam had told the story with Dean interfering whenever his brother got a bit too carried away or lingered on the exact re-telling of unimportant details for excessive amounts of time. It was interesting, hearing Sam's version of events and seeing how the girls' version of their life had affected him but Dean still felt like he was spectacularly missing the point.

"Listen, uh," Sam scratched his head as the tension thickening between hunter and angel became more tangible, "I was just about to go buy something to eat before you guys showed up. Care to join me?" Clearly the younger Winchester was hoping for Hannah's curiosity to take over, back in the day Cas had been overly eager for 'human experiences' and grocery shopping definitely counted as the epitome of such. To everyone's great relief the angel seemed to grasp the concept of taking a hint more than Cas ever had.

"Of course." Since she was already standing she simply waited for Sam to get up as well before quickly meeting Cas' eyes for approval. At the court nod she received she quietly followed Sam out of the room.

And just like that Dean was alone with Castiel, which his body somehow interpreted as cue to speed up his heartbeat a notch and send some cold sweat to the palms of his hands which were currently clutching the armrests of the chair he was occupying with an iron grip.

"You're uncomfortable," Cas stated with mild curiosity. "When Sam and Hannah were still in the room you seemed fine. So I'm guessing it has something to do with me." Observant bastard.

Dean grimaced, forcing his hold to loosen up. "It's just that damn case. You know how much I hate it when everyone knows what went down in my life, even if they think it's fiction."

"I understand."

"It reminds me of when I messed up, of all the times I betrayed Sam's trust. And look where it got us. We can't even be in the same room without either having an over-the-top feelsy moment or winding each other up until we're just about ready to murder the other. It's not healthy, Cas."

The angel sighed and got up, dropping the trench coat he had kept in his lap on the sofa cushions and walking over to Dean's seat. There Cas hesitated for a moment before he crouched down next to the hunter so their eyes were more or less level. "Dean, your relationship with your brother is a lot of things. Healthy, I'm afraid, isn't one of them. But you share so much pain, so many stories, victories and losses – it's unlike any bond I have ever seen in all of creation itself. You can't give up on it now."

Dean already felt the familiar prickling in his eyes and knew that his vision was about to blur but he wouldn't let it. "I'm not giving up, man," he said, voice rougher than before. "I just don't get how he always manages to come around, no matter what screwed-up stunt I pull… I mean I almost murdered him _twice_ this year."

They shared a silenced that felt like it could last centuries, breathing in the other's presence and revelling in the fact that, for the first time in too-fucking-long, there was no immediate threat to either of their lives. There was the thing with Cas' stolen grace and Dean more likely than not still classified as Knight of Hell but at least for a little while they could pretend like it was all good even while it wasn't.

"I'm- Cas this is gonna sound weird."

The angel frowned. "Dean, your brother just told me about a musical version of the Winchester Gospels that ended in a battle between robotic Martian life forms with dubious homoerotic background. I believe it will be difficult to get weirder."

The hunter cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm not, uh, y'know, I'm not made of stone, right?"

Cas chuckled. "Quite the opposite. I should know, since I was the one to rebuild you."

"Right." Dean blushed. "But I don't mean literally, I mean… concerning emotions. I show them. Sometimes. Most of the time I numb 'em with booze or I pretend I don't have 'em but I can show them."

The infamous Head-tilt made its first appearance as Cas tried to grasp the meaning of the hunter's words. "I know," he said with a nod of encouragement.

"So, what I'm trying to say is… lately, ever since you and Sam cured me- thanks again for that by the way-"

"Dean."

"I feel too much," Dean finally blurted out. "I feel _everything_ and I can't remember how _not_ to feel and it drives me insane, Cas! Every thought I have has the potential to make me cry like a little girl and every time Sam tries to joke I get so damn angry but more at myself than him because… because I feel like I'm not supposed to be happy."

"Dean… " Cas closed his eyes, smiling sadly as he shook his head. "I know this is kind of your thing… the belief that you're undeserving, worthless, and that no matter how much good you do, it will never be enough. And maybe for you it won't." The angel's eyes opened, piercing straight through all of Dean's layers until it felt like they were staring straight into his soul. Who knew, maybe at that point they were. "But to your brother it's always enough. You can choose to accept that or not, it's true nonetheless. I _know_ because to me… to me, too, it's always enough. _You_ are always enough."

The hunter could be knocked over with a feather after that. It hadn't been one of Cas' most eloquent or verbose performances but something in Dean had evaporated- and it might just be the beast in his chest. "Cas…" he said because it was the first word on his mind. The only word.

"It's fine." Cas absentmindedly dropped his gaze to the raised patch of skin that was still embedded in Dean's arm. Slowly, the angel raised a hand and traced the red path with the pad of a finger, raising gooseflesh Dean couldn't even deny if he wanted to. In short pulses of heat Cas shot his grace into Dean's arm in a half-hearted attempt to heal.

"That won't work, stop it," Dean chastised, catching Cas' hand with the intention of pulling it off his skin and dropping it again. That, too, didn't work. Instead he found himself stroking his thumb over the tanned back of Cas' hand.

"I want it gone," the angel mumbled, thoughts evidently elsewhere.

"You and me both, buddy."

Cas pressed his lips together, nodding. Then he got up. "It might just be the aftermath of the Purification. The overwhelming emotions, I mean," he said with finality.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, taking a moment to consider the words and realizing that it didn't matter. The angel was about to stalk off toward the library when the hunter jumped from his seat and quickly caught up to him, grabbing him by the arm. As Cas stopped to look at him, Dean involuntarily and for the first time ever noticed that their height difference would probably give them a nice angle if they were to kiss. "Hey, Cas," he said, abolishing the thought, "Can you help me with something?"

For a moment Cas looked confused again. "Yes, what do you need?"

"There's a door. In the control room. I kind off, you know,"- he made an awkward hammering motion which was all it took for the angel to understand.

"Ah. Yes, very _The Shining_ of you, if I'm not mistaken."

Dean laughed. He outright laughed and laughed until there were tears in his eyes and this time they weren't sad so he let them flow over and tickle their path down his cheeks. "I forgot that you're all savvied-up now, Cas," he said once he regained his breath, clapping the angel on the shoulder.

Said angel smiled with a mixture of pride and timidity, apparently relieved that his comment had resulted in such a positive reaction and began leisurely strolling into the general direction of the control room. Dean stood behind for another moment, shaking his head at the not entirely horrible way his heart put an awful lot of sub into the text.

The beast in his rib cage was pleased when he decided that he really didn't care.

...

That night, after fixing the door, Dean lay in his bed again and realized that there had never been a beast or a war to begin with, just Cas. And now that Cas was there, the imaginary creature had disappeared and taken the gaping void in the hunter's chest with it.

Content and for once at peace with himself, Dean fell asleep to the sound of Castiel breathing next to him.


End file.
